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It is a bitter contest: the creature is of aberrant ferocity. You fight for what seems an age, giving and taking bitter blows. Your left arm hangs useless, torn by a blow that almost hurled you across the room. Finally you spot an opening and slide the blade home. The creature collapses and sprawls onto the floor, blood forming small puddles from a dozen wounds.

You look around to see the cook staring at you with horror in his eyes. Finally, grasping his poker more firmly, he advances towards you shouting, "You have slain Master Derdolcelme!"

Do you attempt to reason with him?
Do you attack him, as he is obviously mad?

 

copyright Pelgrane Press Ltd 2005